Ride me home (like a cowboy in a country song)
by The Readers Muse
Summary: The point was, this was supposed to be about her and here he was, halfway to oblivion before they'd even freakin' started.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own AMC's The Walking Dead or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.

 **Authors Note #1:** This is all Liddym's fault because she wanted face-riding Caryl porn and I am a weak, weak woman.

 **Warnings:** Set post season 5 in the ASZ, established relationship, face-riding, vigorous oral sex, hand job, hair-trigger, very light dom/sub undertones, Daryl's usual amount of self-loathing/self-esteem issues. Basically, Daryl worships his woman and Carol profits, that's it, that's the fic.

 **Ride me home** **(like a cowboy in a country song)**

The thing about good intentions was that while he always had them, they never quite managed to come out completely selfless by the time the evenin' crickets started singin'. It was Dixon trait. He knew that much. And Merle had certainly chirped it's praises over the years. Talkin' about how the world didn't owe no one no favors and what a man needed to do to get ahead in the world was his own damned business. So, yeah. He got that. Like falling prey to a heredity disease - ingrained bone-deep and greedy - he'd spent a good quarter of his life fighting the reality that he was more used to takin' than givin' when it all came down to it.

He knew there was a saying about good intentions the same as he knew he wasn't exactly the poster child for any of that 'feel good' bull crap people used to shovel before the world had gone down the pisser. But still, he figured he had his moments.

Kind of like right now where anyone and their _dog_ could find him punch-drunk, slurry and half-suffocated as Carol rode his face like a fuckin' champion. Meanwhile, he was just trying to keep up, gasping the occasional blur of air as his hands anchored her hips against his face and kept her there. Locked and close as he sucked and licked at her slit. Bed springs squeakin', chin slick and dripping. Eyes closed in bliss like there was no place on earth he'd rather be then swirling his tongue between her folds. Dick throbbing every time she lost a fraction of that impressive self-control and bore down on his tongue.

 _Christ, Carol._

The room was thick and humid with the smell of sex – _the smell of her_. Heady enough that he could actually taste it in the air as he nosed around and found her clit. Bare toes curling across the messed up sheets when she let go of a breathy sound and firmed into his chin. Humping distracted, desperate semi-circles into the jut until she was full out _shunting_ up against his face. Just like she had when she'd wriggled up his chest, breathing throatily as he'd coaxed her up, wanting nothing more than to get his mouth on her.

The point was, this was supposed to be about _her_ and here he was, halfway to oblivion before they'd even fucking started.

She was using him, he realized. Arousal flaring hot as the thought registered. Sinking between the haze of heat and tepid want with a sudden pinging jolt that settled just below his navel. She was using his mouth - his teeth and tongue. And he _liked_ it. Liked that he could give her this. _Him._ Giving her his undivided attention as he slurped noisily against her sex, stubble grating gently across the delicate inner of her thighs as she warbled out an approving sound.

For the moment, nothing else in the world existed than the moist heat of her pressing around his face. He was lost in it, full out tripping into a blurry sort of headspace he'd never even known existed. Ignoring the growing ache in his jaw as his tongue speared between her folds, humming happily as she moaned. Murmuring, wordless and pleased when she bucked into his face, her grip on the headboard tightening - breasts jumping as she moved on top of him. Forcing him to grip her tight and suck in air when he could.

Truth was, he was fucking _gagging_ for it.

 _He could be good._

 _A good boy._

 _Hers._

 _He could be good for her._

 _Good to her._

 _Give her what she wanted._

 _Anything._

"So good," she hissed, head tossed back to reveal the clean line of her throat. Startling him when she mirrored his thoughts then took them a step further. Leaning back to palm his cock as the heat curling in his belly exploded outwards before she'd even finished the second pull. "God, _Daryl_."

"Don't!" he yelped, feeling his own peak suddenly surge, easy and embarrassing quick as she gave him a firm squeeze. Only thing was, that muffled in her folds, the warning didn't come out so clear and suddenly it was moot point because he was coming. Painting the small of her back with ropy trails of thick, opaque-white. Mouth falling open and lax as she shifted, smiling into the thin skin of his throat before she littered it with soft licks and lazy kisses.

He came down alternating between pleasure and shame. Hating himself a little bit more as she sighed, a gush of slick trickling between her folds as if in sympathy as he shuddered through the lingering strength of it.

 _Jesus fuck, he hadn't come that hard since-_

"Shit, sorry," he muttered, cheeks burning. Thumbs rubbing a few errant streaks of cum into the juts of her hips as she leaned back, stretching. Enjoying the attention. Soft breasts swaying slightly, nipples peaked – making him wish he had about seven more hands as somewhere downstairs, the sound of a door closing made them freeze.

"Don't be," she hummed after a pause, sweaty hands petting down his face before carding through his mussed up hair – streaked with her own wet and his saliva before they firmed at the root with a pointed tug that had his dick perking impossibly fast.

"Because unless you don't mind, I don't see any reason to get off the horse, do you?" she posed, eyes flashing dark and ridiculously blue as his dick twitched hopefully like it was attached to a string in her palm. _And Christ, he didn't mind at all._

"Now, _giddy up_!"

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. – This story is now complete.


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